


Emerald and Obsidian God of Death

by TarynTypes



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarynTypes/pseuds/TarynTypes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is raised as Ichigo's little brother after being rescued from the Dursleys. Unfortunately for Harry; the wizarding world isn't quite ready to give up its saviour. Can the brothers stay strong against Aizen, Voldie AND Dumbles?</p><p>{Rewriting and Expanding - New Updates Mid-May}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So this is the first chapter in the rewritten version of “Emerald and Obsidian God of Death” I adopted this fic from Magician Girl Mirani so you should go check out her stuff over on fanfiction.net I’ll try to keep on a schedule with this but I tend to procrastinate so that might not work so well...Anyway, leave a review telling me what ya’ll think okay? 
> 
> Oh! By the way; Neither me or MGM own anything related to Bleach or Harry Potter. Although I do have a Bleach poster in my room as well as several copies of each of the Harry Potter books….But I don’t think those count.  
> Enjoy!

Harry James Potter, at five years old was undoubtedly the youngest and by far the smallest resident at No. 4 Privet Drive. He was small, even for his age, and the ribs which were always visible beneath his skin were now pointing every which way. This was because his uncle, one Vernon Dursley by name, had caught him doing something "freakish" again.

He'd been outside, weeding his Aunt Petunia's flowerbeds again, enjoying the only time he ever got out of the house when he heard it. There was a voice coming from the large tree in the backyard which he had been working close to. The voice was faint, and had a hissing quality to it.

"Stupid humans….messing up my nest again…..should bite the little fat one but I'd probably get indigestion," the voice said.

Harry was five, and as you could expect, he was very curious. But living as he had, he learned very well the consequences of curiosity. As the hissing and mumbling continued he decided to risk punishment and see what it was, so Harry very carefully made his way over between two large roots of the tree. Between the roots was the source of the voice. A small, pale green snake. It was about a foot in length and had faint markings that he couldn't quite make out, a normal grass snake. Just then the snake looked up at him and let out an angry hiss.

"Stupid human hatchling!" It said, "now I am going to have to find another nest...again."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, not realising he was slipping into Parseltongue. "I won't move your nest if you don't want me to..."

The snake looked up at Harry in astonishment. Never have I come across a speaker. Sure there are rumors...and Voldemort. But this one is so young...

"You can understand me?" The little green snake asked, just for confirmation that the child was indeed speaking the snake language.

"Yes..." Harry replied cautiously, worried as to what he meant.

"Then you are a speaker!" The reptile exclaimed, jubilant to have its suspicions confirmed.

"A speaker?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes," the snake answered. "You have the gift to speak to serpents. It is a rare and valuable gift. There have only ever been few speakers and many of them were a long time ago. There was one a few years ago but not many snakes followed him. He was cruel and twisted. There was a strange taste about him. I did not like him..." The snake paused for a moment and studied Harry, taking in his oversized clothes, messy pitch black hair and emerald green eyes. "Tell me hatchling, what do the humans call you? I go by the name of Sylvestra."

Before the boy could respond, a shadow fell over him and he was lifted off of the grass while Sylvestra hissed and slithered into a little knoll. He was turned to face the extremely plum-colored face of his "loving" uncle. The man's face was darker than Harry had ever seen it and he could've sworn that the man's lips were blue. Harry didn't know very much, but he was sure that the combination on a human face wasn't healthy.

"What do you think you're doing you freak?!" Vernon's beady eyes narrowed as he venomously spat the words through his mustache. Harry froze, his green eyes widened as he tried to figure out why the man was home. Then he remembered, horrified that he could have forgotten. His guardians were having guests tonight, some important dignitaries that Vernon's boss had asked him to impress in order to secure a partnership between his company and theirs. His uncle had only had to work until two o'clock that day. As he remembered all of this his uncle shook him roughly and barked;

"Well?" When he received no answer from his unwanted ward, he growled and dragged him inside, past his wife who busily scrubbed the counters until he walked past. She pursed her lips and queried harshly;

"What did he do this time?" Her husband shooed her down and tore the fine rug from the floor of his living room.

Even until the day he died, the only thing Harry Potter could remember after that was being bodily thrown into his cupboard. He assumed that his young mind had blocked out the events of that hour to save his sanity.

Waking up from a pain filled sleep, he heard the doorbell ring and had to force himself not to jump in shock. He knew from repeated experience that doing so would only serve to make the pain worse.

A sound that reminded Harry of thunder crashed down through his childish ears and he assumed that it had been his uncle coming down the stairs, having been peeking through the upstairs windows at the guests. Carefully, the boy raised himself off his dirty mattress and knelt next to the door, ignoring the pain from his legs. He looked through the tiny peephole at the bottom of the door that he used to see the guests his family would have over. It had a perfect view of the front door, so he'd be to see what these people looked like. Or he could have, if his uncle hadn’t stepped in front of the door.

“Mr and Mrs Kurosaki!” His gruff voice bellowed, “wonderful to meet you. My name is Vernon Dursley, this is my wife Petunia. Please, come in, come in.” He told them moving to the side and letting Harry get a quick glimpse of a tall woman with light red hair, and a man with stubble on his chin and short black hair. He saw three small blobs of color by the woman’s leg, but he wasn’t sure what they were.

“Thank you, Mister Dursley,” the tall woman said. She must be Mrs Kurosaki. “I hope you don’t mind, but Isshin and I brought our children with us, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving them at the hotel and we were unable to find a caretaker for the evening.”

“Not a problem Mrs Kurosaki, I have a son myself. Dudley, come here.” Harry saw his squat cousin waddle up to the newcomers and wave happily. Then he moved in front of the taller blob by Mrs Kurosaki’s leg and puffed.

“I’m Dudley, what’s your name?” The orange blob tilted to the side as though looking up at it’s mother. There was a lilting laugh and she explained to the family.

“Oh, I’m sorry Dudley, my children don’t speak english just yet. His name is Ichigo, he’s five. His little sisters behind him are Karin and Yuzu. They’re twins and Karin is the one with the black hair.” Harry noticed that there was something in her voice that he’d never heard before. Not in the way that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia spoke of Dudley, and certainly not in how they screamed at him. It sounds like…Love…

Soon the two families walked past his cupboard and the five year old noticed how close the family looked. The little girls, Karin and Yuzu were holding hands, while Karin gripped Ichigo’s and he held onto his mother’s skirt. As they passed by him, Ichigo turned to look at the small broom cupboard and his brown eyes locked with the emerald ones peeking through the hole. It was only for a moment though, as the boy’s little sisters pulled him on and he went to eat with the rest of his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ichigo was slowly pulled through the house, noticing just how clean everything was. He dimly noted the adults talking in english, but since he’d just begun to learn it in school, he had no real idea of what was being said. On their way into dining room he saw a cupboard underneath the stairs and he caught a quick glimpse of green eye-like shapes gazing at him from the bottom of the door.

_Who is that?_ He thought as his family pulled him into the table. He looked around some more and noticed a lot of pictures of the fat kid from earlier. Ones where he was younger, some where he was with his parents. Some where he was even fatter than he was now. But Ichigo didn't see any pictures where someone had green eyes. As they sat down to eat, the adults carried on a conversation in English, and Yuzu and Karin were sitting there shyly. The fat kid, whose name was Dudley, was wailing and complaining about something and his mother, a tall, ugly, boney woman was trying to calm him. When words didn't work she gave him the largest plate of ice-cream that Ichigo had ever seen. It was kind of disturbing. He tugged on his mother's sleeve and asked her quietly if he could go to the restroom.

His mom relayed the question to the ugly woman who told him where to go. He nodded in thanks after his mother translated her response. As he made his way up the stairs and noticed again just how clean this house was. _Do they just hang around cleaning house all day?_ When he was done, he stopped at the cupboard he had seen earlier. He slipped closer and noticed a smell he hadn't picked up before. He knew that smell.

_That's the smell that's in Dad's office....Blood!_ As he realized the smell's origin he raced back into the dining room where his parents were still talking with the stupid British people. He ran straight for his Dad. His mother was great and all, but his father was a doctor, he'd know what to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry had been drifting in and out of consciousness since the boy had gone into the dining room. He woke up again as he heard light footsteps coming down the stairs. The footsteps were lighter than his cousin and uncle’s and didn’t sound hurried like his aunt’s. He looked through his tiny hole and saw the boy. Ichigo was his name. Harry hadn’t noticed him going up the stairs, but he wasn’t to surprised. Uncle Vernon had been rougher than usual and he had been as still as possible because that lessened the pain. He noticed that Ichigo ran back towards the dining room and his eyes widened. _Oh no! He saw me and he’s going to tell Uncle Vernon and I’m gonna get hit again…_

He heard Ichigo say something to the adults but he couldn’t understand the words. His aunt had said that these people were Japanese so that must’ve been what they were speaking.

His teachers once told him that he was smart for his age, and he was definitely smarter than his cousin. He’d been so happy to hear that. Atleast, until his report card came home and he got a beating for having higher grades than his cousin. After that he’d been extra careful to score really lowly so that Dudley felt smart. Whenever he could though, he went to the library and read anything he could get his hands on.

It was the one place he was safe from Dudley and his friends. Afterall, why would they want to even step foot in a library.

Harry had looked up Japan in the library when he heard about the guests. It was only a children’s dictionary but it had gotten him interested so he had looked at and checked out more and more books so that he could read more about the fascinating foreign land that had peaked his five year old imagination. He wished so desperately that he could go there.

Footsteps brought him out of his memories and he heard a multitude of voices mumbling at onc. Then his uncle’s voice rang out.

“There is no blood here. The boy must be imagining things!”

“I’m not so sure,” Mrs. Kurosaki said. “I can smell it as well. It is rather hard to miss now that I think about it. Now, Ichi. Where did you say the scent came from?” Harry heard light shuffling and then a small pat on his door, as though someone had placed their hand there.

“Are you sure son?” A gruff voice that must’ve belonged to Mr. Kurosaki asked. The boy had to have nodded because Harry heard the sound of the deadbolt on his door being unlocked.

“Now you listen here,” Uncle Vernon started, sounding flustered. “This is my house! I don’t know how it works in Japan but here in Britain, guests cannot simply start searching the house as they please!” As he spoke, there were heavy footfalls that moved in front of his cupboard.

“I am a doctor, Mr. Dursley.” Mr. Kurosaki said. “And as a doctor, I am obligated to investigate anything that concerns me regarding the health of anyone I encounter. The smell of blood, coming from behind a locked door seems pretty suspicious don’t you think? Now move!”

Harry heard a shoving sound and then the door opened, casting Harry into blinding light that caused him to throw his arm in front of his eyes. Then he gasped in pain as the movement made him see spots.

A shadow fell over him and he heard a woman give a sharp intake of breath. Harry opened his eyes and saw the brown ones from earlier. Ichigo Kurosaki was moved out of the way by his father who was glancing all around Harry.

“I demand you leave at once!” His uncle cried.

“Oh don’t worry Mr. Dursley.” Mrs. Kurosaki said coldly. “We will be leaving shortly. And this boy will be leaving with us. You are obviously unfit as guardians.”

"You will do no such thing!" came his aunt's shrill cry from behind her husband. "The freak will stay here!"

"Why do you call him a freak?" asked Mrs Kurosaki. "He’s your family isn’t he?"

“That brat is no family of mine! He’s the spawn of my sister and that useless oaf. They went and go themselves blown up and we got landed with the brat. And he’s just like them. Just as abnormal…I swore I’d stomp out that freakishness when I found him on my doorstep.” Harry’s eyes started to feel heavy and he knew he was about to pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As all of this went on Isshin Kurosaki’s mind raced. _Freakishness? Does that mean that he can see spirits? That might explain it...His aura is almost as strong as Ichigo’s...But it’s never been tapped…I have to get him out of here._ The boy’s injuries were bad. It was amazing that he was still alive. As the bright emerald eyes closed they settled on Ichigo. Ichigo smiled at the kid and he smiled softly back before slipping into sleep.

“Masaki. Take the kids out to the car. We’re taking him with us.” Isshin said finally and stood, holding the bundled child in his arms.

His wife did as asked and they all went out to the rental car and got settled. Isshin held the boy carefully. Resolved to take him to the nearest hospital. A shout was heard behind him and he turned to see Vernon Dursley at the front door with Petunia just behind him.

"Fine!" Vernon bellowed. "But don't expect to bring the freak back here! If you take him you deal with him. He's nothing but trouble!"

"We'll be the judges of that," Isshin said coldly before climbing into the car and almost slamming the door shut. Masaki immediately backed out of the drove way and sped toward the closest hospital. Isshin looked down at the fitfully sleeping child in his arms. He would protect this kid. Of that there was no doubt.

~~~~~~~~~~~

In the back seat Ichigo was having similar thoughts. He'd seen the black haired boy first. He'd felt something when their eyes had met. He wasn't sure what it had been but there was one thing he knew for sure. He was going to protect him. No matter what.

His mom always said that when something was important to you then you should do all you can to protect it. The bundle in his dads arms was important to him, but he wasn’t sure why. Not that it mattered. Ichigo would protect him anyway.

And on that day, Harry Potter became a part of the Kurosaki family.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira Kurosaki reminisces on how he learned about the magical world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it’s been so long between updates. Got caught up with some other story ideas and put this on the back burner. So this chapter was starting to feel long winded, it has a lot of time skips in it and lots of detail. So I decided to split it into two chapters. The second part of this chapter will be posted within the next couple of days. I'm spending the weekend with my girlfriend and don't want to waste time.
> 
> Please remember; MGM and I do not own Harry Potter or Bleach, they belong to J.K. Rowling and Tite Kubo. Although I did recently buy a Bleach poster at a nearby convention.

~Ten Years Later~

Day was dawning on the town of Karakura. The sun just barely peeking over rooftops and into windows. All was quiet and peaceful. Except in the Kurosaki house where chaos reigned.   
“GOOD…MORNING!” Isshin’s voice cried out followed by a series of bangs and crashes and the odd curse.   
“Damn it old man!” Cursed a young man as he sprang from his bed, orange hair messy from sleep. His shirtless form showed his tanned skin and a toned physique. His brown eyes flashed in anger as his father jumped up from the floor where he had been nursing a bruised jaw. Ichigo Kurosaki had had enough of the old man that morning.   
“Do you ever learn?!” An exasperated voice cried from behind Ichigo. A smaller teenager stepped out from behind him and the differences were as stark as day and night. This teen had long, dark hair that fell gracefully beneath the boys shoulder blades and glinted dark purple or blue in the light. As he stood there he pulled it back with a green ribbon the same color that streaked through his hair. Over the years he’d tried many different lengths and styles to keep his hair tame and orderly but nothing shorter than his shoulder blades worked so eventually he gave up and just kept it tied at his neck. His milky white skin brought out his emerald eyes and as he brushed his bangs to the side you could see the lightning strike shaped scar that had marred his skin for as long as he could remember. He was born with the name Harry James Potter, but for ten years this boy had answered only to Akira Kurosaki.   
A few minutes passed by with another scuffle that ended in the Kurosaki brothers holding their father by his arms, facing the open window.   
Akira locked eyes with his brother and nodded when Ichigo glanced towards the window.  
“On the count of three?” He asked, his father stiffened when he realized what his boys were about to do.   
“One,” began Ichigo.  
“Two,” Akira responded.  
“Now, boys…” Isshin started nervously. “There really isn’t any reason-”  
“Three!” The Kurosaki sons called before flinging Isshin through the second story window. They heard him crash, but weren’t concerned. Isshin never seemed to gain injury from these daily encounters. Ichigo and Akira didn’t understand why, but they didn’t care too much either.  
Ichigo sighed, and after closing his window and curtains, he began to dress in his uniform while Akira did the same. There were enough rooms in the house for each of the brothers to have their own. But ever since Akira had joined the Kurosaki family, he’d had horrible night terrors. Akira would often wake up in the middle of the night, sweat beading down his back and throat raw from the screaming he’d done all night. Ichigo seemed to be the only one who lessened the nightmares. As long as he was close, Akira could sleep peacefully, and a whole night through. So, Ichigo and Akira decided to share a room for convenience sake. He could hear his father shouting something up to them, but Ichigo ignored him in favor of studying he and his brother’s room.  
It was a decent sized room, definitely big enough for the two and they were both comfortable in it. Their beds were close together, separated by a small table with an alarm clock. Akira wasn’t sure why they kept it since Isshin always had them up well before school. Their desk was at the foot of their beds, with a small lamp and shelves beside it for their books and materials.   
Akira pulled on his jacket and looked at the window, before yawning and heading down to the kitchen with his brother.  
“Good morning Ichi-nii, good morning Aki-nii!” Yuzu chirped as they sat at the table. Her twin sister, Karin sat down as Yuzu put breakfast on the table.  
“Are you two ready for school?” She asked.  
“Pretty much.” Ichigo said.  
“Dad woke you up late Ichi-nii, Aki-nii. If you don’t leave you’ll miss the first bell.” Karin said, grabbing a slice of toast. Ichigo nodded and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he walked to the door.   
“See you later Yuzu, Karin.” Akira called as he followed behind his brother, after grabbing a couple of slices of toast and juice boxes. As they walked down the street, Ichigo decided to pick up the pace when he saw just how late it was. Akira was half-jogging, trying to keep up since his legs were shorter than Ichigo’s. It annoyed him to no end that he was several inches shorter than Ichigo, even though Ichigo was only a few weeks older. Akira barely reached his shoulder, and he hated being short. He didn’t think he would mind so much if he wasn’t the shortest boy in their year, or the one below them. Karin never stopped teasing him.  
“Don’t forget, we need to take the flowers to that girl after school.” Akira reminded his brother, remembering the night before. The two boys can interact with the spirits of the departed, whether dearly missed or not. The night before, a group of idiots had been messing around near an offering for a little girl who died in a car crash. They knocked it over as Ichigo and Akira walked by. The two of them got angry and stood up for the little girl when she couldn’t stick up for herself. They told the girl’s ghost that they would come back the next day with new flowers and she was thrilled.   
When they reached the school, they were greeted enthusiastically by Keigo Asano and Akira had to hold back a groan. Keigo really got on his nerves and he constantly wondered why his brother hadn’t just punched him. Instead, Ichigo just stepped out of the way and let him fall on his face. Mizuiro greeted them, a bit more calmly and asked them how their weekend was. Just then, Tatsuki Arisawa and Orihime Inoue walked in.  
Tatsuki was Ichigo and Akira’s best friend, and a tomboy down to her bones. She kept her dark hair short and spiky and only wore a skirt as a mandatory part of her school uniform. The boys had no doubt that she would wear the boys uniform if she could. A recent addition to her usual clothes was necklace made of six violet leaves.   
The Kurosakis had met her when they were little, at a martial arts dojo, and they’d been best friends ever since. Orihime, on the other hand was another matter. She was shy and soft spoken, only interacting with Tatsuki and occasionally Chizuru when she got too close.  
Whenever she got close to Ichigo she would stutter and blush, unable to act normally. Akira knew he couldn’t blame her. Her brother had died a few years ago, and she’d been on her own ever since. However, he knew she needed to learn to stick up for herself. Tatsuki wouldn’t always be around to protect her and sooner or later someone would take advantage of her obliviousness.  
Classes were uneventful as always, and while their teacher droned about the importance of factoral equations, Akira let his mind wander to his other lessons, his magic classes that he took every evening.   
Unlike their European counterparts, the Japanese wizarding population strongly believed that integration with muggle society would benefit more than harm them. When a child with magical ability turns eight, their family is notified and a representative of the magical community would come and explain things. Akira thought back to his own experience.

~Seven Years Before~

While the representative, Mister Suzuki, was explaining everything to his family, Isshin Kurosaki was thinking. Akira has magic and spiritual pressure? He began listening to Mister Suzuki’s explanation.  
“While the Japanese magical community does not communicate much with our wizarding counterparts, we are not ignorant. We are aware of the Dark Lord Voldemort and the trouble he created in the UK. We are also aware that Harry Potter was the instrument of his defeat and of Mister Potter’s disappearance shortly after. We at the magical investigation department have been able to piece together hidden facts and we believe that young Akira Kurosaki is in fact Harry James Potter.” Suzuki explained, he’d felt it was his duty to inform the family of this and any other information they asked for.  
“So,” Isshin said, trying to wrap his head around what was said. “What you’re telling us is that this Voldemort guy, killed Akira’s birth parents but wasn’t able to kill him and somehow managed to get himself killed instead?”  
“That’s right.” Mr Suzuki agreed. “The British Ministry is completely baffled, they have no clue how it happened. After Akira’s parents were killed, the protections and charms on their house fell and people flocked there. The Potters were a very old pureblood family and everyone wanted to see how they’d lived.By all accounts, Sirius Black reached the cottage first, then Albus Dumbledore. Black was arrested several days later and put into Azkaban on an untried life sentence for betraying the Potters.”  
“Pureblood?” Akira asked. He had lots of questions, but he wanted to know more about his heritage. All his aunt and uncle had ever told him about his parents was that they were freaks and wastes of space. They’d also said some other things that Akira didn’t understand but when he’d asked Isshin, he’d refused to tell him until he was older. The Dursleys had called his parents by many graphic names that a child had no right knowing.   
But now Isshin knew why the Dursleys had acted the way they did. They see people who are different as freaks of nature. Magic just happened to be the most prominent difference that they’ve come across. Isshin’s thoughts turned to possibilities. It was possible that Akira’s reiatsu had been the reason the attack rebounded. Magic and reiatsu seemed to be very different substances altogether, so it was possible that when the magic collided with Akira’s powerful spiritual pressure, it caused the killing curse to reflect back onto Voldemort. It was an interesting prospect that Isshin decided to explore later. While he was thinking, Suzuki had started explaining things to Akira.  
“Purebloods are people whose entire families, or a majority of it, are magical. They’ve chosen not to marry and have children with non-magicals. It is the belief of most purebloods that the breeding of magicals with ‘muggles’ will weaken the magical ability of later generations and taints their blood. In the English magical community, the government is run mostly by purebloods, and so after school, most muggleborns decide to leave the magical world, or at least the country.” Suzuki shook his head, disgust evident on his face. “The purebloods don’t realize that by inbreeding they are ensuring that their genetic defects pass on to their children, making them weaker and shrinking the magical population by producing squibs through genetic mutation.”   
“What about Akira?” Ichigo prodded, he wanted to get back onto a topic he understood. He and his brother were only eight.  
“Young Akira, born Harry Potter, was the son of James Potter, a pureblood, and Lily Potter nee Evans, who was muggleborn and rumored to be the most gifted witch to pass through the halls of Hogwarts Castle since Rowena Ravenclaw herself.”  
“Hogwarts?” Akira asked in tangent with his brother who asked,  
“Rowena Ravenclaw?” Suzuki chuckled and explained.  
“Yes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s a school in the UK which all magically gifted children are invited to attend when they turn eleven, whether they be muggle or magic born. The school was funded roughly a thousand years ago by four very powerful magic users, possibly the most powerful at the time. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Hogwarts school today is divided into four houses named after them and students are sorted into them based on personality traits that the founders would have valued. Students often refuse, some because the parents do not want their children attending a magical school, or because they wish to train their children at home. And that, brings us full circle into my visit today.” Suzuki grew silent and pulled a folder from the briefcase he’d brought with him. “This is a list of courses available for magic users to take if they accept the invitation.  
“Will Akira have to give up school?” Isshin worried aloud. One education is not worth the surrender of another.  
“Oh no, classes will be in the evenings. We prefer that students have a balanced education so that they have a broad spectrum of job opportunities once they’re old enough to seek employment.” Suzuki handed the folder to Isshin who passed it to Akira so that all three Kurosaki men could read it.  
Courses Available to Magical Trainees 

Beginner:

•Transfiguration: Introduction

 

•Herbology:Introduction

 

•Magical History

 

•Potions: Introduction

 

•Charms: Introduction

 

•Magical Animology: Introduction

 

•Defensive Magic: Introduction

 

•Offensive Magic: Introduction

 

•Ritual Magic: Introduction

 

•Blood Magic: Introduction

 

•Rune Carving: Introduction

 

•Arithmancy: Introduction

 

•Divination: Assessment 

 

•Magical and Non magical Integration: Introduction

 

•Healing Magic: Introduction

 

Intermediate

•Transfiguration: Intermediate

 

•Herbology: Intermediate

 

•Magical Cultures

 

•Potions: Intermediate

 

•Charms: Intermediate

 

•Magical Animology: Intermediate  
~~A deeper look into more dangerous creatures.

 

•Defensive Magic: Intermediate

 

•Offensive Magic: Intermediate

 

•Ritual Magic: Intermediate

 

•Blood Magic: Intermediate

 

•Run Carving: Intermediate

 

•Arithmancy: Intermediate

 

•Divination: Intermediate  
~~This course is reserved for students who have an actual talent in the subject, as determined by the beginning course.

 

•Healing Magic: Intermediate

 

•Magical and Non Magical Integration: Intermediate  
~~A more in depth look, this course focuses on melding the two worlds together.

 

Advanced

•Transfiguration: Advanced

 

•Animagi  
~~This can be taken in conjucture with Transfiguration, or as a separate class.

 

•Herbology: Advanced

 

•Works with more dangerous plants and fungi

 

•Charms: Advanced

 

•Potions: Advanced

 

•Offensive and Defensive Magic: Advanced

 

•Magical Animology: Advanced  
~~Sentient and intelligent creatures. Please keep in mind that these beings are just as (if not more so) capable as humans and deserve complete respect.

 

•Ritual Magic: Advanced

 

•Blood Magic: Advanced

 

•Rune Carving: Advanced

 

•Magical and Non Magical Integration: Advanced  
~~Focuses on bonding the magical element into technology.

 

•Healing Magic: Advanced

 

•Necromancy

 

•Shadow Manipulation

 

•Magical Art

 

•Magical Music

 

•Study of Foreign Magical Laws  
~~This is recommended for any magic user who wishes to travel.

 

Akira looked up at Suzuki with wide eyes.  
“That,” Ichigo said after a few moments of staring at the list. “Is a lot of classes.” Suzuki chuckled again.  
“It is recommended that the child in question, in this case Akira, only take four or five courses at once. It helps to keep from being overwhelmed. If a student chooses a course and struggles with it for more than a couple of weeks, it’s suggested that they drop that course and chose another. A student begins his training at age eight and continues until they turn sixteen, which is when you come of age here in Japan. Once you turn sixteen, you will be free to choose a familiar.   
“A familiar is an animal to whom a magic user is bonded to for life. Most choose owls or cats for convenience, but some will choose differently. I heard of one woman in India who bonded herself to a tiger cub. But you’ll learn all this when it is time for you to take a familiar. Any earlier than sixteen and there can be side effects to the bond.” Suzuki paused for a moment, both to let the Kurosakis absorb the information and to gather his thoughts.  
“We train our students for eight years, because some courses take extended periods of time and we want you to have your best chance to learn all you wish to learn.”  
“How long is each course?” Isshin asked, he hoped that Akira decided to study healing magic because it could be very useful around the clinic once he got older.  
“It depends on the course. For instance, transfiguration can take one to two years to complete but healing magic can take anywhere from a year to three depending on the aptitude of the student. Each course, and each student is different. Some choose to take their time and complete all the beginner courses before moving on to intermediate classes.” Suzuki decided to tell them a bit about Akira’s birthland.  
“European schools train children from eleven to seventeen. They go to a boarding school where they are taught everything they’ll need to know. Unfortunately, while this breeds independence, it can cut the students off from developments in the muggle world, making it almost impossible for them to find jobs there later on. Most purebloods agree with this wholeheartedly, while others are more open to the changes that could come with mild integration. Sirius Black, and James Potter were among those who accepted the muggle world.”  
“You’ve mentioned Sirius Black before,” Isshin commented. “Who exactly is he?”   
“Sirius Black was one of the best friends of James Potter, the two of them, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were inseparable all through school and after. When James took his wife into hiding under a Fidelus charm, it was thought that he had chosen Black as Secret Keeper, meaning that Black was the only one who knew where the Potters were hiding. Since Voldemort discovered the Potters, it is thought that Black betrayed the Potters, and he now resides in Azkaban, serving a life sentence for supposedly killing thirteen muggles and Peter Pettigrew. There are many witnesses that confirm that Black chased Pettigrew into an alleyway, however there are no witnesses saying they saw an explosive jinx leave Black’s wand. But since he was the only survivor of the incident, Black was arrested on sight and instantly shipped off to Azkaban.” Suzuki explained, sorrow etched into his kind face.  
“Why wasn’t he given a trial? You keep saying Azkaban, what is it?” Something wasn’t sitting right with Isshin, or his boys.  
“Azkaban is the magical prison where the British magic users keep their criminals. It is guarded by horrendous creatures called Dementors, which literally suck the happiness and soul out of a person. Muggles can’t see them, but everyone can feel their effects. It feels as though you stepped into a freezer, and that you’ve never been, nor ever will be, happy.” Isshin shuddered. 'That doesn’t sound good. If a shinigami ever came into contact...They sound a lot like hollows.' Isshin had another item on his growing list to investigate.  
“Because there were so many people who claim to have heard Pettigrew shout at Black about ‘betraying his best friend’ shortly before an explosion, everyone assumed that Black was the murderer and traitor. He was not, however, given the chance to defend himself, so some governments remain skeptical. If Black had been tried under the influence of Veritaserum, then the truth would be clear and perhaps the right man would be in jail.” Seeing the blank looks on the faces of his hosts, Suzuki continued. “Veritaserum is a potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth, without any twisting or embellishments. Lying under the influence of the potion is impossible.”  
“So he wasn’t allowed to defend himself?” Ichigo asked, not liking the idea. He believed that even if someone had done something wrong, they deserved the chance to tell their story. It was only fair. Some well known cases had only been solved after the police had heard all sides of the story. it was possible that Black was innocent, and Ichigo hated it when people got blamed for things they didn’t do. Like Akira had with the Dursleys.  
“That is correct,” replied Suzuki. “Right now, Black languishes in one of the deepest cells of Azkaban, and our government, along with the Chinese, Australian and American wizarding governments are petitioning for Black to receive a formal, open trial to give him the chance he deserves. However, the British Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, won’t allow it.”  
“Why not?” Akira queried.  
“He doesn’t want to be seen as having made a mistake.” Suzuki answered. “He would lose his public image, and with it the people’s support and most likely, the election. He’s become to fond of power to risk giving it up. “

~Present Day~

Not long after, Suzuki left, leaving behind an address that Akira needed to send his course selection to by the end of the week.   
Eventually, Akira chose to take transfiguration, healing and blood magics, potions and magical animology. Sitting in class, he though back on the courses he had completed. Transfiguration, offensive and defensive magic, and blood magic, he had excelled in the beginning and intermediate classes, he’d decided to drop blood magic but was continuing on into animagi studies and advanced transfiguration in a couple of days. Healing magic, he had only completed the beginner course after discovering he didn’t have the necessary amount of precise control. He’d moved on to beginning rune carving and was now taking the intermediate class. Akira had also completed beginner courses in herbology and potions, and was taking intermediate classes in charms. He’d also decided to take the study of foreign magical laws. He had a feeling that he would eventually return to Britain, and he wanted to be prepared when he did.  
His two favorite courses seemed to be Magical Animology and Magical Art. He’d sailed through the beginning and intermediate classes of Animology, and he’d begun advanced courses at age twelve, two years below the norm.  
Magical Art seemed to be one of the only things that could help him relax, and he was very good at it.. The spellwork and runes involved with making his sculptures and paintings move was quite intricate and detailed. Because of it’s difficulty, it actually required a wand to do. Wands weren’t used by Eastern communities nearly as much as Western ones, but sometimes they were required for more complex spellwork.  
Akira remembered when he’d gone to get his wand, he was eight, and he needed it because of his blood magic class. The twins had been left with a friend, and Ichigo and his dad had gone with him. The old man who owned the wand shop, Souta Umino, was very excited, Akira hadn’t been a match for any of the pre-made wands, so Souta had to design him one.


End file.
